


Sunny Saturday Afternoon

by Oh_Martha_My_Dear



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Fluff, M/M, McLennon, Sleepy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 11:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18009779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Martha_My_Dear/pseuds/Oh_Martha_My_Dear
Summary: After a night of drinking, John wakes up with Paul asleep on top of him. Fluff ensues.





	Sunny Saturday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Mclennon fic so please be kind as I have no idea what I’m doing. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

I’m woken up by the unpleasant feeling of a water droplet falling on my forehead. 

Sleepily I open an eye and see a dark stain, about as big around as dinner plate, has spread across the ceiling. Perfect, I think to myself. I sigh and close my eyes again, not quite ready to be awake yet. 

My peace is disturbed yet again a few seconds later when another drop splashes across my temple. Annoyed, I roll my eyes, making the moves to get up from my place on the couch.

Only then do I notice the weight holding me down across my chest and down on top of my legs.

I panic for a moment, fearing that I had brought a bird home last night and forgotten about it. But after looking down that fear dissipates and is replaced with a feeling of confusion.

From my viewpoint I am face to face with a dark brown head of hair that cuts off mid-ear. I then begin to notice more and more details about this mystery person.

For example, their hands look quite masculine as they rest lightly on my chest. Some veins visible through the skin and thick calluses on the fingertips. 

I crease my eyebrows in confusion as my eyes continue to search for more clues. When I get to their body, my breath hitches. 

This mystery person, or should I say, mystery man is wearing a suit. Much like the ones that Paul, George, Ringo, and I wear on stage. Once I notice his suit that he neglected to take off before falling asleep, I notice that I have down the same. The bunches of fabric becoming uncomfortable to lay on.

Frantically I wrack my brain for any memory of what happened last night. We played a show, Ringo suggested we go get drinks. I only had one, no two, no wait, five. Only then to I notice the pounding headache and how the sun feels a thousand time brighter than it usually is. 

With a groan, I close my eyes and turn my head away from the window. At that, the body that is resting on top of me shifts.

My eyes snap open again. 

He sighs, his head turning up ever so slightly. 

Hesitantly, I peer around, seeing if I can catch a glimpse of his face. As his features are slowly revealed to me, the tension in my shoulders slowly starts to relax. 

Paul.

Those familiar long eyelashes and plump lips that are parted ever so slightly. I breath out a sigh of relief, my breath moving a few hairs across his forehead. 

We must have never made it to our rooms last night. I feel a smirk tug at my lips. 

He looks so peaceful, so angelic laying here. Carefully, I lift my hand and brush some hair out of his face, making sure not to wake him.

The light coming through the window shines across his face, making his skin glow. 

“How beautiful your are” I whisper so quietly that it barely audible.

If only he knew what I thought about him, he would probably run for the hills. 

But for now I won’t think about that. I’ll just lay here, remaining inside of this bubble we have created, completely oblivious to the outside world on this sunny Saturday afternoon.


End file.
